


Erased

by graspthesanity



Category: t.A.T.u. (Band)
Genre: F/F, Nostalgia all the way
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-12-19
Packaged: 2020-03-08 15:10:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18897157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/graspthesanity/pseuds/graspthesanity
Summary: A call to no end. A love far too lost.





	1. Chapter 1

I pick up the receiver in a phone booth, a block away from my apartment and I close my eyes. Tears should’ve been running dry, there isn’t rain and it’s noon. I don’t know who I’m calling anymore. I look behind me, to see my boyfriend look at me very cautiously, not understanding why I can’t stop writing and why I can’t forgive. In the end I bang the receiver down, my body shivering and I dream of a beach, as if I’m meditating, but then I recall us with the legs tangled up, fluids mixed between them and how our body still radiated heat, all of our love stood still in the air, as you looked at me. 

I’ll never be able to approach you.

I’ll change forever. You won’t recognize me. 

There’s been so many people I’ve loved. 

There’s him, him, her, how many? How many? 

Why haven’t we tasted the other’s lips far more often? Why didn’t either of us bother to tell the other ‘I love you’ at the right time, but instead cried in our rooms, the imagery of sex long gone, like an Icon removed at a church for restoration? We needed God, that’s what we would’ve been told after getting beaten up. 

My shoulders shake. 

So many people never replied to me, because I never replied to you. 

It’s my karma to bear. 

I’ll never make love to a woman, because you had taken that one slice of me when I did and you kept it close, leaving me wandering in a labyrinth. 

I shouldn’t ask you to say sorry. You’ve wounded me enough, you’ve taken more songs with you and I’ve shot a bullet through your heart, I’ve taken you in my arms bleeding and that had been it. 

Other women don’t compare to you. I feel like we’re both writing this letter, where I don’t know where you end and I begin. I see you in the mirror and I break it, only to bury the shards later. 

I think of a beach. 

Where I’ve met my boyfriend, but does it matter now?

Where we’ve made love. Me and him. 

I don’t know, my fear took over when you put on the heels and left, I could still hear you walking at midnight, waking me up, asking me to have sex with you. That was all we would call it, laughing that men wouldn’t satisfy our needs, but years passed and we were left with men on our hands, men who loved us dearly and who understood our pasts far more than we ever will. Maybe because everyone had their loves to tell, the loves they failed and now the loves they gained. 

I picked up the receiver, called a random number and hung up, knowing that it wasn’t even the right country code. I dyed my nails yellow, I’d tell you that. There is no point any longer, so I turn around and shrug my shoulders, because tomorrow I’ll forget, the day after I’ll regret and soon enough your face will blend with the rest and on my deathbed I’ll be alone, never to know what happened to you because –

Love will burn, just like you said.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apparently I couldn't let go...

I remember vividly how you had knocked on the wall besides us, as we laid in my bedroom, some trickery was forming on your lips. It felt so strange back then to have kissed a friend. I knew that we were doing something more than what we were told to do on set, like we did with countless boys. 

But we never spoke of our first time. Yulia, you knocked to make sure that no one was listening to us because we'd be loud. I don’t know how we managed. 

You were jealous of how full my breasts already were, I remember. You'd always fondle them, and we could get anyone, especially you... You were the pretty one until you gave it all up, insecurity taking over and I had to watch the TV show with eyes wide open. 

Yulia... how insecure were you? To say such a thing when you've had sex with so many girls, when you’d invite them over for me to watch and touch myself when I was nervous to touch you? 

Sex was such a big deal for you. I hope you've burned all the tapes for your own sake, or do you still stick your hand in your underwear watching two girls make love like the rest of the world once did? 

You’d fuel me with so much sex that I wouldn't be able to keep up, I'd just let you please me with your fingers, tongue and toys. You knew how to touch and you wouldn't stop. 

It's easier to chase you had told me, maybe that's why when I told you that I felt the same you gave up. I could scribble notes upon my arms night after night, just to wash them off for my boyfriend to never see. It's about loving someone else... it didn’t mean that our love was any less like you had suggested, your inner biphobia consuming you entirely. 

I didn’t know what could’ve been done. You had given up, you were finding myself in other women when your head wasn’t filled with another fling. You couldn't do anything and I wasn’t there to guide you like I tried to believe I had once. 

Days passed when I tried to call you without knowing the number and you never called, not because we couldn't find it through mutual friends, but because we both didn’t want to see what the other had become. I couldn’t help but start getting more distant and I knew you inside and out, so of course I knew who I was in love with. But was it still the same person? Have you changed, or have you hidden yourself away to become someone you thought you should be? 

Maybe the irony is that we, holding a teenage love so dear, ended up losing it? We had taken everyone by surprise, we had been jerking off material for so many, even ourselves when we couldn’t look at each other in the eye, our memories would form sticky traces on our fingers for the years to come. 

I couldn’t end anything, I couldn’t make myself stop, I couldn’t, I couldn’t…

I screamed in the night, holding my hands to my ears so that I wouldn’t hear myself but the rest of the world would if it already did once, something we didn’t understand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I picked off where I finished it and kept on writing and I wanna see where it goes, since I got quite some love for it and it's lovely to see that there's still so much love for t.A.T.u.!!! I hope you enjoyed this chapter, more to come!
> 
> For my other work, and to know why I use AO3, see here: https://graspthesanity.wordpress.com/2019/06/09/why-i-use-ao3/


	3. Chapter 3

Rows and rows of girls could be summarized as my past weeks. It was one after another, whenever I could sneak one in and all of them looked like you. Black hair, short blonde, all lengths and piercings and all were into girls, all complimented my full breasts, just like you liked them. We’d have sex in all positions, they’d keep me quiet like a trophy and I would keep them, but I was going insane.

I needed you, I had no number to call and I didn’t want to.

I started having orgies with alcohol, all of the fake Yulias around me until I wouldn’t hold my alcohol but the sex wouldn’t stop. It was lesbian sex on lesbian sex, I needed you, I needed them at least like a placebo.

I was living an old fantasy which I wouldn’t rip the ribbon off.

I couldn't understand your hatred, how you kept spitting it like venom. What about us? What about everyone else? I invited all girls... Just who resembled you, we fucked until my legs were shaking and my pussy was dripping.

You would never come knocking on my door and even if you ever did, I was away. When I knocked on yours you were praying to a God of hate. Wars started crumbling onto the news and I couldn't help but wonder on whose side I was. Why did democrats want war? What about us? What about us? What about those things you said? When would they stop playing in my head?

Some girls did drugs, some would share photos of me having sex, sex tapes would leak and I prayed you would see me, you would grab my boobs and we would have crazy sex. I didn't even need the laughter, I needed you in any form and capacity.

I needed all girls until they all turned to you, but the orgasms weren't the same. Then I found your number.

I called, stroking one Yulia's hair as she giggled with her cropped blonde hair.

“I'm a lesbian!”

“What? Lena... What the fuck...?”

“I've gotten my pussy eaten more than you could ever wish. Fuck you.” And I hung up, returning to the orgy and letting myself be in the bodies of Yulia's as we all thrusted, played with boobs, pussies, strap ons, cocks, everything. A woman is a woman.

The next few days I kept vomiting until I realized that it was no longer from the alcohol and I hadn't known any of the girls. Their codes were to be called Yulias.

I was pregnant.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been really tired so I am behind on updates, but I'll try to post things more often now.

**Author's Note:**

> I still love the group, even though Yulia burned all the band's credit and they're non-existent. They played such a huge role in many people's lives, including my own. I wish things would've turned differently, but homophobes will be homophobes. 
> 
> Still, their music touches me deeply after all these years.
> 
> For my other work, and to know why I use AO3, see here: https://graspthesanity.wordpress.com/2019/06/09/why-i-use-ao3/


End file.
